“This is normal,” Mrs. Visser had said. “Your bodies are changing. This film will explain how and why.”

Outside, the last days of 1991 faded into winter. And Bram, still a boy for a few more months, let the whir of the projector fade into a memory he would one day be grateful for. End of story.

Then Mrs. Visser turned on the overhead lights, harsh and fluorescent. “Questions?” she asked.

“Is it… does it hurt?” He meant growing. He meant changing. He meant everything.

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